He was always destined for success because his languid class as a superior left-hand batsman was evident from primary school days in Christchurch. There was no great family tradition in cricket for Stephen but his mother encouraged him then and still does today. She also raised a fine young man, a person of grace and character with a more steely side to him than might be suspected at first glance. His first test match at Hamilton all but produced a remarkable concurrence, a debut century. Remarkable because New Zealand's record shows only four of these, all left-handers. Jack Mills, back in 1929/30, then a long wait till Bruce Taylor in 1965, the meteoric Rodney Redmond in 1973 and Mark Greatbatch in 1988. Fleming had the first qualification, that of being sinister, and he demonstrated so much of the other skills that he reached 92.

He had scored 67 by stumps on the fourth day and in a shade over four hours looked certain to join the memorable sinister four until suddenly Kapil Dev caught him at mid-wicket. A new star had arrived and he soon confirmed this with 90 in his first One- Day International. Then it took an age before he finally managed his first test century, against England at Eden Park in 1997. He had passed the half-century mark so many times that comparisons with Australian opener Bobby Simpson were rampant. Unlike Simpson, whose maiden century was a triple, Stephen settled for 129 but it was a gratifying moment for those of us who knew it was only a matter of time.

Since then he has distinguished himself with a mammoth 174 not out in Sri Lanka and is now approaching 2,500 runs in his 40 Test matches with an average in the high 30s. In one-Day Internationals he has thrived in the ultimate test, scoring centuries against Australia including one at that cauldron, the MCG. Initially Fleming's tenancy of first slip was marred by a hesitancy in going down low. It seemed he was almost too laid back, too relaxed for such a quick reflex position. He quietly worked on this to the extent he now holds the joint world record of five catches in a test innings, standing alone with seven in the match at Harare in 1997/98.

This distinguished record would stand proud if it were not for his assumption of the New Zealand captaincy at a time when dire straits prevailed. The administration of the game in New Zealand had deteriorated to the point where, mercifully, a review led by the redoubtable Sir John Anderson saw an elected council replaced by a board of hand-picked professional business people with cricketing backgrounds. Amongst the head-hunted for CEO was a former opera singer, Christopher Doig, who had a useful sporting record and success in the organisation of arts festivals in Christchurch and Wellington. He set about recruiting a support team and took the hard decisions about the key roles of coach, selector and captain.

His inherited scenario was coach Glenn Turner, who had chosen Lee Germon to lead the international side without any previous playing experience at that level. Germon was a useful Canterbury 'keeper-batsman who could be relied upon to support Turner's demagogic style. The problem was that while Turner had a franchise with the public, through his clever manipulation of the media, he lacked the respect of the players. They resented the schoolmasterish, 'my way' methods that brooked no alternatives.

Some of the more free-spirited actively expressed their resentment, like Chris Cairns and Adam Parore. It was Doig who selected the Australian Steve Rixon for coach, and who appointed former All Black captain John Graham as the Black Caps team manager. Why an Aussie and why a rugby player/schoolmaster? Surely these appointments were also anathema?

Why the return of Ross Dykes as convenor of selectors? He was the man who had served on the pre-Turner panel and then withdrew rather than compromise his principles. Dykes had never played test cricket but is a sound reader of the game, as my elder son Jeff would testify when together they led Auckland through its most successful era.

It has taken time to see the benefits of Doig's astute judgement. Through this trying period Stephen Fleming became New Zealand captain, replacing the honest but limited Germon, whose association with the now former coach Turner doomed him amongst his peers. It meant that Parore could be played as a 'keeper-batsman again, thus improving the balance of the side.

In his Life Lines Fleming says that he desires to become New Zealand's most successful captain, as well as the most prolific run-scorer. He is already the leading captain with a win ratio superior to all. It will take him time to achieve his other goals but he is already well on course. He also wishes to leave the game with no regrets.

He need have no fears on this count. Through all the traumatic changes in New Zealand cricket Stephen Fleming stood firm. He admits he was hurried into the captaincy and it was a case of learning on the job. He found it daunting to graduate from one of the guys to being the leader. He didn't want to sacrifice his friendships.

He has succeeded in strengthening them, for the players grant him unstinted respect. He had to miss the Third Test with India (and the First against South Africa) and his replacement, Dion Nash, performed superbly in his stead. The media wanted Nash to claim the captaincy, or at least endorse his claims. 'No way,' said Nash, 'we can't wait for Steve to get back and take over again.'

Fleming has been transformed. Now he consults the advisers, rather than team management consulting him. He has developed in the role, and you can see it in his expression. There is now a hard line to the jaw, a set expression of determination. There is a rigid maintenance of those principles that served him so well during all the troubles. It means that Stephen Fleming will never use destructive comment, for there is not a mean bone in him. Rather, there is a hard frame that is the platform to the accomplishment of his goals.

About his batting. He has that precious virtue of most left-handed batsmen, the graceful off-drive from almost any length. If the ball is short he simply holds the shot and plays later, still from the front foot. If wide he allows the ball to reach a spot parallel with the front foot and then unleashes that glorious stroke, the square-drive. When pitched really short Steve just comes back and gives it the high hands and full follow-through. From these sumptuous strokes a boundary oft ensues.

Stephen is almost unfairly handsome, tall and willow of build, with dark burning eyes and an apparently nonchalant attitude. The eyes give him away. He doesn't say much but he turns things over in his mind. He doesn't worry about the limelight but he is always willing to oblige for interviews and information. A discussion with Stephen Fleming is a test, for he is quick to grasp complex issues and to reduce them to size. He answers briefly and with articulation.

It wasn't always thus. He has had to learn to deal with the publicity and on the dark days has kept an equilibrium that makes him one of his country's admired sportsmen. He has worked on his own game, and that of his team, with dedication and commitment. He will have his dark days, as do we all, but he will continue to conduct himself with that decorum and dignity which marks a true cricketer.